Baal & λέαινα
by SweetDreamBeautifulNightmare
Summary: The future for me is already a thing of the past. You were my first love and you will be my last.
1. Prologue

Marilyn Monroe once said "I am good, but not an angel. I do sin, but I am not the devil. I am just a small girl in a big world trying to find someone to love. "I don't normally go around comparing myself to Muggle movie stars, but in this case, I've never known word to be truer about me.

I have done so many good things, fighting for the ideal of love. But I have also done many bad things, in the name of love, for the man I love.

I have tortured, killed, deceived those who care most about me. And for what? For a man who will never love me, as much as I lead myself to believe. He may try (and maybe in his own twisted mind he thinks he does love me) but he will not – there is not a bone in his body capable of love.

I often wonder how his life would have turned out, had his mother lived. Maybe he would have grown up in a caring, loving environment and known affection. Or maybe the evilness within him is ingrained upon his soul.

My name is Hermione Granger, and I am telling you my story, to show how easy it was to fall in love with the most evil man to walk this planet.

After all "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."


	2. The Office

**AN**

**I understand that some people may not fully understand what the title means, or in fact what the summary means, so I have here a brief description of both. **

**Baal - fallen angel whose name means "the lord." (Tom Riddle)**

**λέαινα - Greek for lioness (Hermione Granger)**

**The summary is a quote, from Bob Dylan, and refers to how when Hermione travels back in time, the future is actually her past. And of course the second part of the summary is fairly self-explanatory.**

**Sorry it's short, but i really wanted to get Hermione to the 40's, where the chapters will be longer (of course, there will bem ore going on with a tennage Dark Lord)**

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><p>"<em>Never travel faster than your guardian angel can fly" <em>

_Mother Teresa_

"RUN!"

"Harry, I –"

"Hermione, RUN!"

That was the last time I saw Harry. Nagini was chasing us, her long undulating body slithering along the floor at an alarming rate. As we ran up the stairs in the Entrance Hall, Harry veered off to the left, while urging me to go right, towards the Headmaster's office.

Arriving at the stone gargoyles, I quickly shouted Snape's password, Blood (How very Slytherin), and ran up the moving staircase, reaching the door in record time, barging my way into the office. Something didn't feel quite right, being in there and not seeing strange, wonderful objects, or the familiar face behind the desk. Snape had barely anything in there, except for numerous paintings on the walls, and his vast collection of books.

Hoping that he had at least left some of Dumbledore's possessions in the room, I searched his office meticulously. In a corner was an old, somewhat battered oak cabinet. I checked for Dark curses, knowing if I died from a silly curse then, that the Wizarding World would be in big trouble - thankfully, the cabinet was locked with a simple Alohamora. Opening the two doors, my eyes filled with tears at the sight of Dumbledore's things. I levitated them all out, as I wasn't sure what all of them were – I didn't want anything like Harry's incident with the spider-like device in Grimmauld Place to happen.

There it was. Dumbledore's personal book of spells. Every single hex, curse or jinx he had created was in the journal, including one for destroying Horcruxes. Grinning madly, I grabbed the book, ready to find Harry and get rid of Voldemort once and for all.

If only that were true. I really shouldn't have expected it to be so easy.

He was there.

The Dark Lord. Tom Riddle_. Voldemort_. I stood frozen still, not wanting to turn around and face the grotesquely inhumane face.

"Such a clever, clever girl. One would never expect it from a Mudblood. If only your blood wasn't so filthy, I could spare you."

Anger bubbled within me. Who was he to talk about blood status, the hypocritical bastard! It's not as if everyone didn;t know of his parents status - Dumbledore made sure the Death Eater's knew they were following a half-blood.

"At least I do not lie about who I am."

He laughed. Were my ears playing tricks? Did Voldemort, mass murderer, racist and resident megalomaniac, just _laugh_? Surely the fighting had addled my brains. Dark Lord'ds do not laugh.

"You are a brave girl to dare defy Lord Voldemort. Not even grown men would dare. It is obvious you belong to Dumbledore's foolosh band of do-gooders. Such Gryffindor qualities will get you killed in the new world."

My confusion must have been evident, for he stopped his pacing, and turned to look out of the window.

"Ah, you do not yet know of todays gives me great pleasure to tell you that Harry Potter is dead. He died trying to save the little blood traitor - his efforts were in vain, as she will now be handed over to Yaxley. Her brothers have been gifted to the Malfoy's, to be used instead of house elves. Longbottom will soon be joining his parents in St. Mungo's. Lupin will be sent to the vampire clans of Romania - we will let them finish off the disgusting half breed. His wife is now owned by Avery, and his son is dead."

Silent tears poured down my cheeks. Harry was dead. Neville was being tortured, and Ron was lower than a house elf. Ginny and Tonks would be beaten and raped by the cruel Death Eaters. Teddy was dead, at not 6 months old. We had lost. The Order was being subjected to a horrific fate, which left only one question in my mind - what was mine? I spun quickly, sending a Killing Curse directly at him. He shielded himself effortlessly, disarming me in the process, while wearing a sinister smirk upon his barley-there lips.

However, the smirk vanished as he looked at me.

"No…" He hissed, as he shot a Body Bind curse at me, non-verbally.

I did the only thing I could think of to protect myself - I shielded myself with Dumbledore's book, being flung back as the curse impacted with the cover.

The next few seconds I will always be unsure of. I remember seeing black mist pouring out of the book, engulfing me in the thick fog it created. The fog swirled faster and faster, creating a tornado in the Headmaster's office. I was being pulled up into the wind. But, as soon as it had started, it stopped. I landed in the office once more, noticing the different décor. But what shocked me more was a very young, very auburn haired Albus Dumbledore, sat across from a stout, balding man. The shock of all this paled in comparion to the fear as i saw the third inhabitant of the office. Jet black hair swept neatly across his forehead; high, arrogant cheekbones; dark red lips and dark eyes - the darkest i had ever seen were filled with shock and concern. _Lies_.

My assessment had been correct; the mist transported me through time. Because i was sat on the floor of the Headmaster's office, with Albus dumbledore, Armando Dippet, and a very human-looking Tom Riddle.

"Merlin's beard! Are you alright my dear? You look in a terrible state, i'll call Madam Rosery up right away!" Dippet exclaimed, racing out of the office and down the moving staircase. He was right of course, i was a mess. Various cuts littered my body, and i was covered head to toe in dirt. It then dawned on me that the two gentlemen left in the room with me were not on the best of terms. As if to confirm my thoughts, Dumbledore gave Riddle an accusing look, as though he had done this to me.

Which he had, just not for another 50 years or so. And it was then i came up with a newly formed mission. I would stop Tom Riddle, however long it took, wherever he was, in whatever this year was. I would change the future and save the lives of my friends, and stop the pain he would cause me.

If I'd have only known that Voldemort had been lying about the Order's demises.


	3. Two professors, a war hero and a monster

**AN:**

**Thank you to everyone who added the story to alerts, or favourites! **

**Special thanks to magentaskyy, lunaxs and MrsSomerhalder10 for their reviews: D**

**Im really sorry guys - I know im not the most frequent of updaters (hell, it takes me a long time to get out a chapter!) but I am going to make more of an effort - think of it as a new years resolution.**

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><p>"<em>Never travel faster than your guardian angel can fly"<em>

_Mother Teresa_

Hermione's first thought as she regained consciousness was one of pain. Her whole body ached severely, as though she had been Crucio'ed by Bellatrix again. Her left arm felt numb, her legs ached in all their joints, and her ribs stung with every breath. Even through all the pain, Hermione still noticed she was in a bed. A somewhat hard, uncomfortable bed - but a bed none the less. Realizing that she must have passed out in a room occupied by Tom Riddle, Hermione opened her eyes quickly in alarm. Taking in her familiar surroundings of the Hospital Wing, she found the three very different men looking down at her, with different expressions. Dippet looked quite old - he was a feeble, frail looking man dressed in cerulean blue robes; Dumbledore looked fairly young, and Tom Riddle, masquerading as a handsome young boy, not much older than herself she guessed. He seemed to be regarding her with the upmost boredom, as if he wished to be anywhere but by her bedside.

Dippet coughed awkwardly, alerting Hermione that she had been staring at him. With an embarrassed blush staining her cheeks, Hermione grinned sheepishly at the man.

"Good morning dear, how are?"

As she had suspected, the man seemed to be overly kind. Did he not suspect her? In times of war, everyone suspected each other to be Death Eaters, informants or spies. After all, Hermione had just popped up in his school.

" _Castle?_ " Hermione thought "_Of course. Headmaster's office. The War. Voldemort. That git."_

It was at this point Hermione properly looked at the other two gentlemen surrounding her bed. Dumbledore was a middle aged man had long auburn hair, with a beard in the same reddish brown. His nose was slightly crooked, and upon it he wore half mooned spectacles. Hermione still had to check though. She looked into the familiar twinkling blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore - alive and well - and felt a sickening sense of dread overcome her. This wasn't just a dream.

Hermione deduced that, with his auburn hair and slightly less wrinkled face, Dumbledore must not yet be Headmaster. Having read Hogwarts: A History enough times helped to place the time period she was in.

"_Armando Dippet. Retired in 1955. And Dumbledore didn't become Transfiguration teacher until 1927. Riddle was born in 1926, so for him to be 17 (almost 18) it must be…1945." _Trying not to dwell on the fact she had travelled 53 years into the past, she turned to observe the young man.

His was very tall, taller than Dippet and Dumbledore, and held himself with an air of importance, his face portraying a carefully crafted mask of indifference. Looking closer at his face, Hermione found herself liking the young man very much. His hair was cut short above his ears, and was a glossy, dark brown (almost black) falling in waves atop his head. His skin was Malfoy-pale, which emphasized his dark hair even more. He had slightly pointed ears; a straight nose; plump, cherry lips, and the darkest eyes Hermione had ever seen - so unlike the cruel, unnatural blood red they would become - were currently fixed on her face. They were very similar colour to his hair, with silver flecks. He radiated power and control, which was confirmed by the Head Boy badge pinned to his pristine robes. His hands were by his sides, wand gripped firmly in his left. His fingers were oddly long and bony, reminding Hermione of a spider's spindly leg.

Realizing that the three men were now waiting for her reply, Hermione rasped "A little sore, sir, but otherwise alright, thank you." Dippet smiled, obviously relieved at the thought of no lawsuit or inquiry from the Aurors, but frowned quite quickly.

"My dear, while your health delights me, I must inquire as to who you are, and how you managed to enter Hogwarts grounds?"

Thinking on her feet - metaphorically of course, as she was still in the hospital bed - Hermione concocted a suitable background story.

"My…My parents have been killed. Before they were- before it happened, my mother gave me a portkey, sending me to London. I believe my parents knew you, Professor Dumbledore, and I -well you were the first person that popped into my head. I Apparated without thinking, to be quite honest."

Luckily, Dippet accepted her story without question. However, Dumbledore and Riddle looked a lot more suspicious, one silently considering her, the other glaring maliciously. "Good gracious dear, how terrible! Who killed your parents? Not Grindelwald supporters? Albus, you really will have to go and sort this out! The Ministry's all for your involvement."

"_Grindelwald supporters! It might me a different time and a different tyrant, but it's still the same situation."_

"I think it is neither the time nor the place for such a discussion Armando. We still have to learn the young ladies name."

"_Merlin's Beard - A name!"_

"Hermione Hartman"

Dippet and the boy turned to Dumbledore, for confirmation of her identity. Dumbledore was looking at her intensely, when she felt a sharp push against her mind. Gathering that Dumbledore was not convinced she was trustworthy, Hermione put down her Occlumency shields, and pushed forward some of the most important memories, hoping this would explain her situation to him. However, she was very careful to sensor her memories, as not to reveal the future to the future Headmaster. She relived receiving her Hogwarts letter; Professor McGonagall visiting her parents to explain; buying a wand from Olivanders; patrolling the corridors as a 5th year Prefect. Seemingly satisfied, Dumbledore spoke solemnly to her.

"Miss Hartman, my sympathy for your loss. I actually knew your parents quite well - your mother was my cousin, you see. Dear Amelia, such a loss. And Armand too."

Dippet fussed once again, but it was not him Hermione paid attention to. Riddle was still staring at her, but now seemed curious, as though the revelation that she was related to Dumbledore was the last thing he expected. Dippet, sensing no one was listening to him, turned to face Tom, and smiled indulgently.

"Miss Hartman, let me introduce you to our Head Boy, Tom Riddle. While you stay here, I'm sure he'll help you in any way he can."

Riddle smiled at the Headmaster, his charming façade not fooling Hermione for one second. "It would be my pleasure, Headmaster."

Hermione could only stare at him. His voice was normal. She had stupidly assumed he would have the cold, high pitched, hissing voice he possessed in the future. In fact, his voice was quite deep and smooth, making him sound like a gentleman.

"_I did not just refer to Voldemort as a gentleman."_

"It's a pleasure to meet you Miss Hartman, asides from the circumstances in which you arrived, of course."

Realizing that she should return the pleasantries, Hermione put on her best act, and tried to be normal with him.

"Thank you Mr Riddle, it is a pleasure to meet you too"

Riddle smirked at her, an expression that, on Draco Malfoy, made him look like a snivelling toad. On Riddle, however, the smirk fit perfectly, cementing his aura of the desirable bad boy. How anyone believed him to be the good, well-mannered Head Boy was beyond Hermione.

Quite suddenly, Madam Rosery - or the woman Hermione assumed to be Madam Rosery - appeared, smiling indulgently at the Headmaster.

"Armando - the young lady is ready to leave the Hospital Wing. Are you feeling up to some breakfast in the Great Hall, dear?"

Hermione nodded, and was thus helped out of the bed by the nurse. She was lead to the bathroom, and provided with the Hogwarts uniform of the 40's. A black pleated skirt that fell above the knee; a white shirt that was to be tucked into the skirt; black knee high socks; a black cardigan and flat, plain shoes. None of the clothes had any House emblem, as Hermione had yet to be sorted. As she emerged from the bathroom, her worries about the sorting were appeased.

"Well then Miss Hartman, how about a sorting before breakfast?


End file.
